Page 25 of Shut Up and Drive

Sera rolls up the chastity blanket, crosses the room, and climbs in on the other side of my bed, planting herself firmly in place. Then she creates the Great Wall of China with the rolled-up blanket between her side and mine.

“There,” she says with satisfaction, then gestures toeach half of the bed. “This is your sleep space, and this is my sleep space.”

I smile as her words come across like the line fromDirty Dancing,yet she doesn’t even realize it. Pointing a finger at her, I give her an empty threat. “If you hog the blankets, I’ll finagle you back into the chastity blanket myself.”

“If you snore, I’ll shove you off the bed to sleep on that yucky carpet,” she counters with fiery eyes.

“Fine!” I say again, so I can have the last word, and flop into bed in my territory.

Our shoulders graze, sending electrical arcs where our skin touches. My heart pounds in my chest so loudly I worry she’ll hear it. She has gotten under my skin just by lying next to me, and I don’t like it one bit. I also love it. It’s the first time we’ve been this close in years, and it makes me ache that she’s not mine anymore. Her silhouette, outlined by the small source of light flickering beside me, is enough to make me say something I might regret in the morning. So I reach for the candle on the nightstand and blow out the flame, enveloping us in darkness.

Chapter 9

BREATHING LESSONS

Sera

The weight of night without lights settles over the room, completely void of even the moonlight trickling in through the window. I wave my hand in front of my face and can’t see a thing. I’ve never before experienced that kind of dark, but after the long day I’ve had trying to keep myself together in front of Thane, it matches my mood inside.

I nestle into my half of the bed and sigh deeply, waiting for sleep to take over. But the nearness of him next to me makes it impossible to relax, much less sleep. The sound of his breathing just inches from me, the way his warmth has no respect for the boundary I put down the center of the bed, and the way I suddenly want to confess everything expose a vulnerability in me. It’s almost too much to bear. I can’t decide whether I want to bawl or scream. I shift on my edge of the bed. I punch at my pillow. I flip from my back to my side, then back again.

“Youokay over there?” His buttery voice cuts through the stillness.

“Ugh! No. I can’t get comfortable. I can’t sleep. Too much coffee at Waffle House, I guess,” I lie.

“Neither can I, with all that flopping around over there. You’re like a fish on dry land.”

“I’m sorry. I can go over to the bloody tornado bed,” I offer.

“Nah. It’s fine. Is… there something bothering you?” The timidity in his voice betrays his breezy façade from earlier.

“Nothing that a ton of shoving it deep down inside won’t fix.”

“That sounds healthy.”

“Healthy or not, I’m a pro at it,” I say with a shrug.

“If it’s any consolation, there are a few things I’d like to say to clear the air. But if you don’t want to talk about it, it can wait.”

When I don’t respond, he changes the subject.

“I have a suggestion that might help you sleep, though.”

I sigh and wave my proverbial white flag.

“At this point, I’m ready to try anything other than have a hard conversation. I’m tapped out emotionally today.”

We lie there for a moment, silence inundating us. His hesitation causes my heart rate to rise in anticipation of what bomb he’ll drop. That’s the thing about Thane: he’s unpredictable. One minute he’s teasing me like he used to, the next he’s getting all uncomfortable and serious. I’m not sure which of those I prefer. They both twist things insideme that I want to avoid. We’ve been apart for so long, parts of him make him a stranger to me now.

Yet I know every dimple and mole on his face. I know the flecks of gold in his pale brown eyes, and how he got that scar above his lip—that beautiful, Cupid’s bow scar. It has tempted me every day since he split his lip open defending me at school.

I always expected Bash to be the one standing up for me, since he was my big brother. But Thane was the one there when I needed him most. When the star quarterback on the football team made an inappropriate comment about me in the locker room, Thane was the one who punched his lights out. Even after he got suspended, he told me he didn’t regret a thing.

I will always adore that beautiful scar on his mouth. It’s a symbol of his loyalty to me. It haunted my dreams for years, and right now—my reality.

“When I lived in California, I met this guru at the beach. He had a ‘breathing studio’ where high-end clients would come and have sessions with him. He taught people how to breathe with purpose, from their diaphragm.”

“Abreathingguru?” I ask with a laugh. “Breathing happens automatically! That’s like paying someone to teach you how to blink!”